Our second summer on Compromis was the last of the second millennium and had begun well and was getting even better.   After a few days in Antibes on our own Keith and Cilla jetted in on Easyjet.   Keith busied himself repairing the Bombard dinghy following the instructions to the letter.   Each layer of glue was allowed to dry for exactly the correct time and it worked.

Happy hour brought out his talent as a cocktail barman.  Sunday evening he made peach champagne cocktails and because they tasted so peachy Liz had a glass too many.   Each night after that Liz resolved to have only the one but Keith is past master at refilling a glass without being noticed and each morning Liz would comment on the strength of the cocktail.

Despite the cocktails we were all up early on Wednesday and headed off towards Italy.  By midmorning the wind strengthened from the east and the weather turned miserable so we gave it best and put into Fontvielle in Monaco.  The weather was muggy and thundery for the next couple of days but we continued along the coast to Alassio and Loarno.   Cilla is such a good cook, Keith is so keen to be involved in the sailing and both of them are such entertaining company that the weather didn’t seem to matter that much.

When I looked up throught the forward hatch on Saturday morning the sky was blue and not a cloud in sight.   Today we would sail across the Golf of Genoa.   We left in a light southerly breeze and could see along the Italian coast disappearing astern.   This was very pleasant and we took morning coffee at the cockpit table as the boat burbled along.   Steadily and quite quickly the wind got up until we were reaching in 25kts.   Cilla perched nervously on the windward quarter but Keith and I reefed both sails and lunch was taken with the boat vertical with no water getting into the cockpit.

By late afternoon Italy reappeared and we saw San Fruttuosa and Porto Fino but we sailed past to the cheaper St.  Marguerite.  Here the learning curve went up a few notches.   Boats were anchored in the bay formed by the sea wall to the west and the town on the east but there was room on the sea wall and that looked the better bet.   The man from the office was walking up and down the sea wall so we waved to him.   He ignored us.    Liz called out in Italian she had looked up and even repeated it on the VHF.    He ignored us.    I went bows-to the fuel berth and Keith stepped ashore leaving me to reverse out.   On the next pass he called out that the wall was a Porto Publico and that moorings were free but we would have to use our own anchor.   Our first Porto Publico!

We made our approach with Cilla looking after the anchor and Liz ready to throw a line ashore to Keith.   Four boat lengths out the anchor went down, we snubbed it in and then reversed up to the wall paying out more chain all the time.   All went well and we tied up successfully first time.   Well done everyone.

Porto Publicos provide free mooring but there are conditions attached and drawbacks.   The main condition appears to be that you can only stay a limited time-here I think it is three days and there is no water or shore power.  Requiring copious water for the showers and power to make the ice for the peach champagne cocktails the skipper’s wife told the skipper to tell the mate to set to and find a proper berth.  This we did the next day but we must explore these free berths so that we can make use of them when we retire.

We are starting to get more relaxed about this cruising life and are starting to realise some of our plans.   St Marguerite is an Italian holiday town and we needed no invitation to join in.  We found Liz a beach complete with sun beds.  It was just across the road from the boat so I was able to nip back to do jobs.  

Phil had fitted a new prop to the bowthrusters two weeks before but it had packed in leaving Loanno.  Fearing the worst I went over the side to investigate but it was still there and not spinning freely on its shaft.   The motor is in a locker under the bed in the fore cabin.   I love what happened next! As the motor came clear I could see the problem-a broken shear pin-and there next to the motor was the solution-a new shear pin.  I am trying to build up spares and keep them and the tools for the job next to where they will be needed.

Continuing the tourist theme we caught the ferry around the point to San Fruttuosa.  Stepping ashore we were met by half a dozen wooden rowing boats offering to take us to see the sunken statue of Christ for which the bay is famous.  Floating above it and using the sophisticated glass bottomed buckets we leaned over the side to view Christ with his hands and face turned up to the surface.   Ashore we swam from pebbled beaches and walked the network of paths up from the beach.

Feeling hungry we caught a ferry back to Portofino for lunch.  Stylish, sophisticated and expensive it is worth a couple of hours.

Wednesday dawned with a new challenge.   Keith and Cilla had caught the train back to Antibes and so it was down to Liz and me-on our own- to sail south to meet up with Les and Catherine.   

Life was made more difficult because the autohelm had taken to steering courses of its own choosing condemning one of us-usually me-to the wheel at all times.   Liz did take the wheel when I went below to prepare lunch, get her a new book, suncream.....  We found the Venere channel between the mainland and a small island and tied up very successfully in Porto Venere.  Liz is proving invaluable at going on the VHF and organising a berth.

She is also impressive in green plastic industrial gloves and brandishing a boat hook.   So taken is she with her developing roles that she has repositioned the boat hook stowage so as to make herself more efficient.  It was another first for us-we had left one port and sailed to another all on our own.

Porto Venere is wonderful.   The marina is expensive but we walked into the town in the evening and it was a delight.  Sitting on a wall eating ice creams we watched beach volley ball played with skill and passion cheered on by partisan locals in a truly carnival atmosphere.

Thursday was an even better day.   We broad reached from Porto Venere along the coast towards Viareggio in flat seas at a steady six knots.  Liz sunbathed, read John Irving’s “A Widow for One Year” and listened to the Magic Flute on the cockpit speakers while I managed a race with a ketch in the afternoon.   Not that we were racing but I think we were slowly overhauling him and they put a man on the genoa sheet winch.

If the cockup at Treguier was the nadir of my parking then Viareggio was our zenith.   Having decided to go for a yacht club berth we motored into the inner harbour but Liz in her best Italian couldn’t raise any one on the VHF.   Round and round we motored but no one came to our rescue.   The ketch that I had raced tied up alongside the one remaining pontoon and I asked to raft up alongside to sort out the problem.

“Of course.” replied the Frenchman.  “Then you can go ashore with my wife to try and find us both a berth.”

When I asked for a 12 metre berth the harbourmaster held his hands aloft and looked up at the heavens.   He pointed to the last remaining berth which was at the end of two rows of boats moored stern to with less than 12 metres between their bows.

“I’ll never get in there!”

“Why not? It is a 12 metre berth.”

Liz was great.   I motored stern first between the rows of boats and as I made my turn she went to the bow and pulled it round using the pulpits opposite and we slipped in a dream.  All tied up we had a couple of cold beers to celebrate.

Les and Catherine were due to join us in three days’ time and Viareggio proved a great place to wait.  A canal leads into the town and its banks are Porto Publico.  The beaches start on the northern side and once again Liz was in her element.  After breakfast we would hire a sunbed, have a swim and then I could leave her with a book and get on with boat jobs returning for a midday swim and to take her to lunch.   The afternoon was a repeat of the morning.

The yacht club was a refined affair and the bar looked out over the marina so at six o’clock we went in for Happy Hour and the wonderful array of nibbles became our starter for the dinner we had on board.   So good were the nibbles that we took every Happy Hour in the club.

Apart from an abortive attempt to find a launderette which began a trail of events which took in a total eclipse of the sun and ended with a midnight firework display on Elbe, we liked our stay at Viareggio.  

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